Pretty Boys
by JennyLD
Summary: Turnabout is fair play.


**Disclaimer:** Doctor Who owns my soul, I own nothing.**  
Spoilers: **None  
**Thanks To: **Sinecure for the beta

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"..._and_ he got styling product all over the console," the Doctor complained, leather squeaking against leather as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Rose gasped, feigning shock. "He did not."

"Did too," he insisted, frowning. Was she mocking him?

She rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, bumping playfully into his side.

Looking down his nose at her, he put on his best 'Oncoming Storm' look. "You calling me a liar then?" He tried for serious, he really did, but he seemed to be wrapped around her finger, this little trouble magnet of a companion. Instead of grinning, as he wanted to do, he ended up pouting. A nice, hefty pout. "I swear, you and your pretty boys. It's a habit with you." He shook his head, lamenting her taste in men.

"Fine, no more pretty boys," she grumbled, warm hand settling in his as she continued to lead him toward their destination. Down another alley, then back out in the open.

"Good, 'cause I'm still trying to un-stick the fluid link boost." He sighed, thinking about all the damage her latest stray had caused. Mucking up the console was only the beginning. "I mean it, if you ever bring another of 'em on my ship--"

"Come on, he wasn't _that_ bad," she groaned. "And he didn't mean to start that fire. He was just trying to help, show you he wasn't useless..." She stopped suddenly, her mouth and her feet pausing at exactly the same time.

The Doctor's feet, however, took another second to catch up.

"Oi," he grumbled, quickly finding his balance. "You could've warned me." Raising his gaze from the ground he'd nearly ended up sprawled out on, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, a shiver running down his spine.

There, just a few feet in front of them, stood the TARDIS. Only, this isn't where he'd left her. Which could only mean...

Watching the door to his ship swing open, he yanked Rose back around the corner they'd just passed.

"What is it?" she whispered from somewhere just above and behind him. He could feel her warm breath ghosting over his neck, distracting him for a moment.

"I dunno," he stated calmly, peering around the cement building, careful not to be seen. Being that he couldn't remember actually being here, in this place, at this exact time, might not mean anything at all. Or it could mean that, for whatever reason, he'd had to purposely forget whatever had happened.

Or it could be a future him about to step out of the TARDIS.

A shadow fell on the tarmac in front of his ship, followed a second later by a familiar blonde, laughing a familiar sounding laugh. "Come on, Doctor," she called out teasingly, pausing just outside the ship, hands on her hips, staring inside, waiting.

"But, that's me," the same voice called out, this time from behind him. "What am I doing here?"

The Doctor shushed her, ears straining for a response from himself. There was none. But, then, a few seconds later, another shadow, and another figure exited the ship.

Rose, the one standing behind him, leaning across his back, gasped.

His shock, though not as obvious as hers, was still there, surely showing on his face as he watched them, Rose and...

"Who the bloody hell is he?" Rose--his Rose--hissed in his ear, pressing her body tight against his to better see around the corner.

Elbowing her back, trying to keep the both of them from being seen, he gave her an incredulous look. "Don't be daft. It's me."

"Oh, pull the other one," she insisted, looking at him with an even more incredulous look than the one he'd given her.

Sighing, he rolled his eyes once in her direction before turning back to watch the other two of them, arguing good-naturedly as they slowly made their way in the opposite direction.

"No."

"Whaddya mean no? I'm telling you that, that" he jabbed his finger in the direction of the other him, "is me."

"And I'm telling you that it isn't."

"Of course it is." He turned to face her, stupid ape comment on the tip of his tongue... "Oh." He blinked, realization catching up with him.

"Oh?" she hmphed. "Oh? That's all you have to say is oh?"

Giving her a sheepish look, he ran his hand over his almost non-existent hair. "It _is_ me, Rose." He held up his hand, stopping her from interrupting. "I don't die, me. I have this...it's a Time Lord trick." She was looking at him like he'd gone completely nutters. "I change. Every cell in my body changes."

She simply stared at him, seconds slowly ticking by, and he felt like squirming under her gaze. Time Lords didn't squirm. _He_ didn't squirm.

"It can be a bit dodgy though," he continued, as if he'd never stopped. "The process isn't exact. I could end up with two heads." He laughed. "Imagine that! Me! With two heads."

She had her hands on her hips, typical Jackie Tyler stance, and he worried for a moment that he might just get himself a slap. Then, face completely devoid of expression she finally spoke. "You're a pretty boy."

He blinked. Looked at her. Then blinked again. Of all the--

"You," she poked him in the chest, "are," again, "a pretty boy."

Backing away from her jabbing finger, he shook his head. He'd just told her he could change his face at will, prevent himself from dying, and this was how she responded? No disbelief, no anger at him for not telling her sooner?

She shook her head and snorted, the snort turned into a giggle, which turned into a full-blown laugh. Before he knew it, she was doubled over, supporting her stomach with her arms, laughing so hard people were starting to stop and stare.

"You..." she struggled to talk. "You...are...a..." Taking a deep breath, she straightened up, running her tear-filled eyes over his body, then glanced behind him, down the alley where the other him and her and gone. She snorted. "A pretty boy!" She laughed again, leaning against him for support.

Then, just like before, she stopped suddenly, eyes trained toward the other TARDIS. "Oh!"

He heaved a sigh, turning in her direction. "I get it, Rose, I'm pretty. Now can we please get going before..." And then it was his turn to pause, as he took in her flush stained cheeks, the way her mouth hung open, eyes glazed over as if--he turned back to the other him and her. "Oh."

There, just a few meters away, pressed up against the side of his ship, the future him and the future her were...well...they were--

"She's gonna have to breathe eventually, Doctor." Rose turned to him, grin firmly in place. "No respiratory bypass, me."


End file.
